MTL - Warhammer Inquisitor-Chapter 26 Frontiers of Empire: Glory and Home

  Chapter 26 Frontiers of Empire: Glory and Homeland

The sound of metal knocking boomed, and the bursts of sound echoed in the training cabin like crisp bells. The cold light flickering under the lighting belt was like meteors sliding down the dark night sky. One after another, the training swords were spun and swung at high speed.

Lancelot tossed and turned in the training cage. Those high-speed swords that were far from being seen by ordinary people were like slow-motion replays in Lancelot's eyes. Astartes' tall but flexible body allowed him to dodge constantly .

  The Caliban knight did not carry a weapon, but entered the combat training cage empty-handed. Once those sharp blades hit him, it was definitely enough to cut off the connection of flesh and blood, but the young knight did not have the slightest fear. He faced fear in the training cage.

  The burly body spun between the blades like a welcome, and the lightning-fast blades didn't hurt him at all. The Dark Angel Space Marine turned around and avoided a sword from the servant's hand.

  He blocked and counterattacked at an extremely fast speed, and swords flew out of his face. A skilled swordsman used the sharp blade in his hand like a part of his own body.

  Lancelot displayed his incomparable skill in the dimly lit training cabin. Presumably, even in the battle group of the Dark Angels, he is also an outstanding swordsman.

  Lancelot threw away the sword, turned around to avoid a slash at a very close range, then popped out his arm, and pressed the switch of the Servant with lightning speed.

  The fighter servant with countless arms gradually fell silent after a tick-tock sound. The servant shrank back, and then was lifted into the top hatch.

Lancelot gasped. He opened the safety door of the training cage. His muscular body was covered with sweat. He put a towel. Well, well, it is definitely a bath towel for mortals, but you know Yes, this is the Astartes.

  Lancelot carried the towel around his neck, and then strode out of the training cabin. He came outside the cabin door, in the vast space of the public training area.

   But now it is empty, only three giants are here.

   None of the Astartes were wearing armor, even Bell, who was only wearing a robe, was sitting on a bench, repairing a bolter with a multi-tool pliers.

  Beside him, Ragnar was swinging his chainaxe at high speed, the ax was booming, and it was as flexible and easy in his hand as Lancelot's long sword.

What? You ask why Ragnar doesn't go in the training cage? Ah, that's because after he dismantled the servitor again, Cole still gave him a ban. If this Fenris wolf cub dares to go in during this time, Cole swears in the name of the Emperor and the Imperial Navy, he will Absolutely stuff Ragnar into a naval gun and shoot it into the stars of this galaxy.

  Lancelot walked to his position. It was a dumbbell rack, but instead of dumbbells, it held a long sword, a long sword decorated with holy wings.

  Several machine servants are surrounding the surroundings. They hold incense burners and swing around the long sword regularly, as if they are performing some ancient sacred ceremony.

   "Lauen, the Lion King, please guide the sword of your heir to the enemy of the empire, so that this sacred blade will never be defeated."

  Lancelot was chanting words, he put his palm on his heart, and chanted the ancient battle group prayers in his mouth. These sacred and ancient sentences have been handed down among the sons of Caliban for thousands of years.

   According to legend, as early as the Great Crusade period, the dark angels would appease the machine souls in their hands in this way, and may those ancient and powerful souls bless them to win one by one.

  Ragnar smiled, he threw the chain saw ax high, and then caught the roaring battle ax in mid-air, "Hey, Lancelot, why did you come out so soon? Are you tired?"

"Tired? No, Ragnar, no matter what, I must not forget the prayer ceremony, which is the sacred custom of the Dark Angels." Lancelot said, slid a finger across the back of the blade, and said Muttering words, it was a sentence of elusive High Gothic, and there was a little accent.

   "Ah! I hate the time when you are all babbling Gothic. Why do you say that Gothic is different from Bell? Caliban dialect?"

"Caliban dialect? Oh, no, no, this is probably the dialect of my hometown, Cologne. Although I left there very early, the traces of my hometown have always been with me." Lancelot said, He took a bottle of holy water from the hand of the machine servant, and daubed it on the blade in an extremely solemn and ceremonial manner.

  The holy water still has a little bit of incense, maybe it can really appease the machine spirit?

Ragnar showed a confused face, "Corony? What place is that?" "My hometown, at least the place where I was born, is a planet of the imperial feudal world. I am the eldest son of a local knight. Chosen by a priest on a passing Dark Angels Chapter strike cruiser, he joined the glorious Chapter."

Ragnar's confusion didn't abate at all, he still looked at Lancelot very differently, "Wait, wait, you mean you weren't born on Caliban? Your priest will go to other planets To recruit recruits?"

Bell, who was sitting on the side, sighed helplessly. He looked at Ragnar, "The ship-based battle group of the Dark Angels, they travel in the universe on giant rocks, and the recruits are naturally recruited from various conscription planets. The ship-based battle group Not uncommon among our brothers."

"We fought alongside the Black Templars remember? They, the Sons of Dorn, are the Fleetborne Chapter." "I knew they were, but I never knew the Dark Angels were, and Caliban was not their homeworld ?"

  Lancelot smiled jokingly, "Caliban is the giant rock, a huge suspended meteorite with an incomparable propulsion engine installed at the end, allowing our warband to travel in the galaxy."

   "The giant rock is also our battle group. Caliban is the only remaining part, and our battle group monastery is built on it." "What? Caliban bombed?"

Bell stopped what he was doing, and looked at Ragnar speechlessly, "The home planet of Caliban was destroyed by a supernova, and now only the part protected by the void shield is left, have you learned from your warband?" Has the history of the nine founding battle groups?"

Ragnar waved his hand carelessly, looking extremely casual, "Come on, I'm not those nerds, I prefer to listen to the glory stories of the warband! Hey! Olaf, do you still remember the story told by the old wolf Logan? A story about our Primarch, Leman Russ!"

The old wolf who was sitting not far away maintaining his armor smiled, and nodded slightly, "How could I forget? I still remember the first time I heard the words of the wolf lord. I will never forget that when Leman Russ left, he let him Sing that story for a long time."

  Ragnar laughed, and spun the chain saw ax with one hand, "That's right! I still remember many stories, the history of our great and glorious wars, which are more conscious than lectures, Bell, don't you tell them?"

"The glory of the Chapter? Of course, of course we will talk about it, but the Ultramarines also emphasize academic learning. Ragnar, Master Robert Guilliman once asked us not only to be an excellent warrior, but also to be an excellent warrior." scholars."

  Ragnar waved his hands impatiently, then looked at Lancelot, "What about you? Are you guys so bored?"

The Dark Angel smiled, and he put the holy water aside, "Naturally, we will also tell about the glory of the warband, usually told by the priest of the warband. Lord Safin has told us countless stories of glory, and I even had the honor to listen Lord Azrael himself has told us of the Chapter's glory."

  Ragnar rubbed his neck with a smile, "That's right! We are the Astartes, and glory is above all else!" "There is also faith and loyalty, Ragnar, I remind you not to forget."

  Bell said seriously, "This is the biggest difference between us and the traitors." "Of course, of course, my priest." Ragnar said with a smile, and sat down on the side.

   "You don't really think I'm like those traitors, do you? The glory of the Space Wolves includes our loyalty to the All-Father, right, brother." "Of course, Ragnar, as it should be."

Olaf said, wiping the pattern imprint on the armor, every time he took care of the huge priest power armor, he kept Olaf busy for a long time, but the old wolf never showed fatigue, but always took care of the huge priest power armor. An old buddy who has followed him for an unknown number of years.

His breathing has long since turned gray, and even by the standards of the Astartes, Olaf is already considered old, but his aging face has not affected the mighty warrior in the slightest, he is still that strong, mighty and The deadly wolf of Fenris.

   "The trials of our warband are fierce! I was naked and carried a knife through the ice fields colonized by Fenris, fighting against the extreme cold and the beasts on the ice fields."

Ragnar said with a smile, obviously bragging, and patted his arm, "A giant bear who didn't know how to die bit me, tore a big piece of my flesh, and then I exhausted that **** to death Yes, use this arm! I skinned it and wore it across the ice fields of Fenris to Wolf's Fang."

As he spoke, he lifted the tooth pendant hanging from his neck. Obviously, it was the tooth of the giant bear. Olaf also had a similar pendant on his neck, which was inherited from the home world by the Space Wolves. ancient culture.

According to legend, every Fenrisian warrior needs to go on a hunt when he is an adult, a dangerous but glorious hunt. These young adults who have just grown up will go into the wilderness to track and hunt those powerful beasts. In the end, if the Emperor Willing, they will return to their tribe with the spoils of the beast, and there, become a true man.

"I dare say! The kittens of the Dark Angels definitely don't have such a "scary" battle group ceremony. Look at this kitten, he gets tired after half an hour." Ragnar still did not forget to tease Lancelot, this Is it a cultural custom with a long history of the two warbands?

Lancelot picked up the knight sword, and he turned to look at Ragnar with a sarcastic smile, "Then we have another round? We were interrupted by Vito last time, and we haven't decided yet." He said flirtatiously, and Ragnar laughed, laughing, and walked towards him with the chainaxe.

Bell cursed and stood up, "You two! Stop in the name of the emperor!" "Don't be so boring, Bell, just come here, and I can beat this kitten to the ground!" "I doubt it, brother, let's try."

"Stop!" Old Wolf said sharply, and the two who had raised their weapons stopped instantly. They turned their heads and saw that Olaf had stood up and looked forward, and a person walked by the edge of the training hall. To be precise, he is a half-mechanical, half-flesh man.

  Omega's iron feet He walked step by step on the marble floor, and he came in front of several Astartes warriors, the mechanical eyes in his eyes flashed with a strange light.

   "You guys, you can go down there and compete. I, I suggest, compete for the number of enemies killed." Omega's mechanical voice said word by word, and the two soldiers put down their weapons and made way to both sides.

  Old wolf Olaf walked among them, and the burly giant stood in front of Omega, like a mountain that covered the sun.

Omega raised his head slightly, looked straight into Olaf's eyes, and then looked at the remaining three Astartes monks, "The judge, on the ground, has received important news, we have confirmed that this planet, has been , was infiltrated by the Tyranids."

   "The local gene stealers built a dangerous Tyranid product factory on the wasteland of the industrial plain. The judge requested that it be completely destroyed. You can execute the wrath of Omnissia and the emperor."

  Olaf raised his head, and the three warriors stood behind him like a towering mountain.

   "As the Omniscient Father wishes, we, will send down his wrath."

  (end of this chapter)